


all the colors of the rainbow

by redhoodedwolf



Series: Sterek Week '15 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, And so is Stiles, Artist!Derek, Artist!Erica, Artist!Stiles, Derek is a dork, Everyone has graduated college, M/M, Sterek Week 2015, a box of crayons, fluuuuff, they're so in love even though they've never met
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5094185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoodedwolf/pseuds/redhoodedwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Derek, this art-crush of yours is really getting out of hand."<br/>Derek whined into the pillow he had pressed against his face. "I know, it's just-- his art is so good, Isaac. He can express himself in ways I could only dream."<br/>"You know, the most you ever speak now a days is about this Spark guy." <br/>"He's broken you," Erica teased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the colors of the rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> Sterek Week Day 4: A Box Of Crayons  
> Art credit can be found here: http://artisticalshell.deviantart.com/art/You-re-Never-too-old-for-crayons-283709079

            "Derek, this art-crush of yours is really getting out of hand."

            Derek whined into the pillow he had pressed against his face. "I know, it's just-- his art is so _good_ , Isaac. He can express himself in ways I could only _dream_."

            "You know, the most you ever speak now a days is about this Spark guy."

            "He's broken you," Erica teased.

            "You've seen his stuff," Derek growled, throwing an arm in Erica's direction. "My art is only half as good as his."

            Erica plopped herself down onto Derek's legs, ignoring his grunt of pain. "Your art is not worse and you know it. Yes, you do similar subjects, but just because his are in color doesn't make them _better_."

            "Crayons, Erica. He uses fucking twenty-four packs of Crayola Crayons to make stunning drawings, and all mine are are bleak dark swatches of charcoal. I blacken everything that I touch."

            Isaac winced. "Wow. Somehow you've gotten worse."

            Erica perked up at that. "He posted a new drawing, didn't he?!"

            Both Derek and Erica were avid watchers of Spark and his colorful drawings, but where Erica had an appreciation for them, Derek had a fascination. The craftsmanship was much like his own, but the array of color Spark used put Derek to shame. Or so he believed. Erica and Isaac tried their best to convince Derek otherwise. Boyd usually just stared at him, but the message got across.

            Yes, Derek was a good artist. A great one, actually. He had his own gallery showing next month in the city and everything. He just... didn't believe he'd ever reach the level of Spark.

            "A _doodle_ ," Derek cried.

            Erica immediately pulled up the Spark's website on her phone as she slid off of Derek's legs onto the bed next to him, relieving the man of that source of pain. She squealed in excitement at seeing the artwork newly posted not half an hour ago.

            _Felt like seeing an eye come to life in my sketchbook today and this happened. Figured some of you would like to see some of my doodles such as this. Please let me know if you'd like to see more sloppy content like this because I will definitely start half-assing everything I do ;)_

            The drawing was of a beautifully crafted blue eye, with melding colors of yellow, orange, and red to highlight the dark tones of the eyelashes, and made the stark white and blue breaking from yellow of the eye burst out from the page. Derek groaned again at getting a slight glance at the amazing image.

            "So I can see how that would be a little infuriating," Erica finally conceded and patted Derek's head twice. "But you're still an amazing artist, Derek."

            Derek buried his flushed face between his pillows and listened as his two blond friends left his room.

            Derek didn't know much else about Spark besides the fact that he (Spark had let his audience know he was a guy after thanking them for trying to be good about proper pronoun usage) was a recent graduate of CalArts, which was Derek's alma mater as well, however that was more than a couple years ago. The small details he did gather about him were from the blurbs he would write about each piece posted on his website. Derek lived for those blurbs. Falling in love with art was one thing, but Derek was falling in art-lust with Spark, and it was starting to become a real problem.

            Derek had discovered the artist in CalArt's alumni online newsletter that he checked every once and a while. Spark's website had been linked in addition to an article talking about how much the faculty in the school really admired his work. The article only referred to him as Spark, so even his one direct source from the school didn't aid in his quest to find out who Spark was. And the only reason he wanted to do that was so he could finally find probably some flaw in Spark that could push away his crush. Then Derek could appreciate his art from afar and not break down over his lack of color skill every time a new photograph popped up.

            At this point, Derek was resigned to the fact that it would never happen. However, Derek was often wrong.

            October was coming to a close, but that meant the opening of his own gallery show that would run for the entirety of November. He was proud of his works on display, and had already started getting some offers on a couple of his pieces. It was true that Derek wasn't a big fan of large crowds, but he enjoyed going to art galleries to support local artists, so he wanted to talk and get to know some of the other artists who went out of their way to attend his.

            Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were off somewhere, enjoying the free champagne probably, but they had stuck around or near Derek for the first hour as people trickled in, for support. But now that Derek was being pulled into surprisingly not terrible conversations left and right, they'd dispersed, confident he could handle himself.

            "Whoa, you're Derek Hale," a voice spoke up from behind Derek after a rather interesting talk with some of Derek's neighbors on a piece they were looking to buy. Derek turned to face them, and spotted a young man. The man was sporting a large grin and he held out a hand for Derek to shake.

            Derek took it, almost too aware of the charcoal that seemed to permanently stain his fingers. Though upon further inspection he noted some color underneath the man's nails. Nail polish maybe?

            "That's me," Derek finally said, breaking the handshake. "And you are?"

            The man jolted as if he's just been shocked. "Oh! Right, duh. Sorry. I'm Stiles. Stilinski. You went to CalArts, right? I just graduated from there. It's kind of amazing to meet you. All of my professors talked about you like you were the new Art God or something."

            Derek blinked, trying to process Stiles' fast flow of words. His face flushed. "Um, thanks. So you're an artist as well?"

            Stiles nodded. "Yeah. I mean, it's not quite a living yet, but hopefully soon. Maybe in a few years I'll be up next to you having my art pieces in galleries other than on campus."

            Derek gave him a small smile. "What's your medium?"

            Stiles scratched at the back of his neck. "Well, uh, it's a bit unorthodox, but I mostly do drawings on canvas with, uh, crayons?" Derek froze. "I know, that probably sounds weird. Your use of charcoal is astonishing. You can create so many shades from white to pitch black using only _one_ utensil. Meanwhile I have to use every color of the rainbow to make mine."

            Derek swallowed thickly. Could this be--?

            "You're not... are you Spark?" Derek asked hesitantly.

            Stiles jolted once again. "Uh, yeah. You've seen some of my stuff?"

            "Seen it? I'm in love with it," Derek blurted, before bring up a hand to slap over his mouth. "Oh god, sorry. That sounds so weird. I just really love how you use such an uncommon medium to create pieces so vibrant. It's really quite inspiring to me. Your canvas of the elephant you did a few months ago actually inspired my lion piece." Derek gestured towards one of the large canvases displayed on a wall near them.

            Stiles appeared to be in shock, and Derek winced. "That's probably weird, right? I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone now."

            "No!" Stiles shouted far too loudly for a gallery, a hand snapping out to grasp his arm. He winced at the glares they were shot, but looked fondly at Derek when the older man gathered up the courage to look him in the eye. "No, not at all. That's amazing, actually. And very flattering. I'm stunned, to be honest."

            "I never thought I would get a chance to meet you," Derek confessed.

            "Me either," Stiles admitted.

            Both men had flushed cheeks, and it became very obvious that Stiles was still gripping Derek's wrist. His grip slackened some, but he seemed to hesitate before pulling away fully. Derek could still feel the warm touch against his skin.

            "If... if it's cool with you, I'd like to talk more. Not here, I mean, somewhere else. Over coffee, maybe?" Stiles suggested, voice low.

            Derek couldn't nod fast enough, because _fuck_. His art-lust had grown to actual lust because honestly Stiles hit every bullet point on Derek's list. "That sounds awesome," he affirmed. "Are you free tomorrow?"

            "Definitely," Stiles didn't hesitate to answer.

            "It's a date."

            A slow grin worked its way across Stiles' face. "Yeah. It's a date."

**Author's Note:**

> There's more of this madness on my tumblr at redhoodedwolf


End file.
